


Ties of Lyrium and Blood

by Lithosaurus



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Fade Nonsense, Fix-It, Found Family, Found Family Re-Forged, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hawke Left in the Fade (Dragon Age), Merrill Fenris and Bethany got to the bargaining step and said fuck it, POV Fenris (Dragon Age), Post DA2, Post DAI
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23569348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lithosaurus/pseuds/Lithosaurus
Summary: “Rian’s alive.” Bethany interrupted. “And Merrill has a plan to get her out.”Fenris turned to the other elf. She wouldn’t look at him.“You won’t like it.”-Hawke is left behind, trapped in the Fade with no way out. Lucky for her, her family isn't going to just accept that.
Relationships: Fenris & Female Hawke, Fenris & Merrill (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Rian Hawke heard the rift close behind her. The Inquisitor, Alistair, and Varric were safe but she had given her safety in exchange. A spider leg as thick as her torso plunged toward her and she cleaved through it. Before the severed limb could even hit the ground, the stump was reforming. The Nightmare’s thousand shifting eyes didn’t even blink as she stood resolute. This was an unwinnable fight but she would fight it. She was the Champion of Kirkwall, after all. Hopeless struggles against the inevitable was her way of life.

A sea of Fearlings swarmed toward her on the unsteady legs of darkspawn. She knew Carver’s twisted face was in there but she wouldn’t look at it. She struck down the ones who came near her and ran. More hopeless struggle, trying to run when the Nightmare controlled the very ground she walked on.

Fearlings, demons, an endless line of aspects; the Nightmare was unending. Sometime after she fell down another twisting mineshaft and shattered her ribs, she wondered if it would just be best to stay down. Fearlings found her before she could catch her breath. Rian squeezed her eyes shut and prepared herself to die. They skittered closer but she couldn’t. She couldn’t just lie down and let this happen. She might be ‘Hawke’ to everyone in Kirkwall but she had grown up as just one of many ‘Hawkes’. She was part of the family that had seen every end of Ferelden evading the Templars and never gave up. What would Father say to see her giving in to demons? Bethany had never failed like that and neither had he. Rian wouldn’t disgrace his memory.

She staggered onto one knee and decapitated the false genlock that loomed over her. A spider leapt onto her back and she slammed herself backwards, crushing it with the hard edges of her Champion’s mantle. She rolled as a maul sped toward her and kicked out, bringing its wielder to the ground. She crushed the hurlock’s throat with one armored fist and surged up, pushing the pain that came with every breath. Two more spiders, three more darkspawn, the Fearlings were thinning out. Then an arrow struck her in the thigh and she crumpled to the ground like a marionette with cut string.

A darkspawn with Carver’s face stalked closer with a second arrow ready. It aimed as she stared at the monster. Her brother, her little brother, had died as she watched ten years ago. She would never be free of it. Part of her, the part that had wanted to lay down, said it was fitting, that this was the penance Carver deserved for her failure so many years ago.

But this wasn’t Carver. This was a demon wearing his face. It was an insult that wouldn’t stand. The arrow flew and she moved so that it struck her plate covered shoulder rather than her neck. In one last desperate strike, she flung her greatsword. The demon had hardly processed what it was seeing before the sword imbedded in its gut and it scattered into dust.

More of them were waiting but something was holding them back. They formed a ring around her like feral dogs waiting for a beggar to die. She bared her teeth in defiance and hoped there wasn’t too much blood on them.

“Peace, Hawke.” A deep voice commanded. Another aspect of the Nightmare stepped forward and Rian wanted to rip it apart with her bare hands.

“Peace is what I’m offering you, in the end.” Its voice would have been comical coming from Mother’s corpse if it wasn’t for the situation.

The stitched together pieces of Leandra Hawke and a half-dozen other women approached her with a grace that it hadn’t had in that Lowtown hole. Her face was far too soft to be hosting the Nightmare. Tears burned Rian’s vision, mercifully blocking out the image. What was one last indignity for the memory of her mother?

“You will die here, Hawke.” The Nightmare spoke softly and cupped her face. “A mortal cannot survive in the Fade but I can offer you peace in your last moments. No more fear for what could be, no more guilt over what has been. Let go of your burdens, you’ve given enough.”

She had. She never wanted to admit it but she had given everything to her family and Kirkwall with nothing in exchange. Even Anders was gone. Just another causality in the path the Maker had laid for her.

“I want to rest.” She admitted.

It felt like greed and sloth, like pride to admit that what she’d done was far beyond what any mortal should be able to do. She looked into her mother’s eyes and wanted to cry, to sob onto her mother’s shoulder like she had when the miller’s boy had broken her heart at 16 or when Father had passed away. The edges of the Nightmare’s form were blurring.

“And you will. You will rest here until your spirit moves on.” The Nightmare assured her.

The Nightmare was a demon. Demons lied. Father had drilled that into Bethany since she was old enough to understand what he said. Father was right.

Her belt knife sunk into her mother’s- no, the Nightmare’s stomach. For a moment, it’s surprise was written across Leandra’s face then it twisted and it’s insectoid form began to reveal itself. Rian plunged her knife into its throat and dragged at the bony ridges that began to grow from its scalp. She hacked into the throat and ripped the head from its body.

Its jaws snapped weakly for a moment before falling slack. The skull disintegrated in her hands and the Deep Roads landscape around her began to blur. Rian collapsed on the ground and whimpered. One more impossible thing, that was good enough, wasn’t it?

Her ribs screamed, her leg burned, her muscles felt like they were stretched into taffy. Rian Hawke closed her eyes…

…and on the other side of Thedas, Merrill Alerion jolted awake and tried not to sob loud enough to wake the neighbors.

-

Fenris locked the gate behind him and led his horse into the quiet stalls of the Amell mansion stables. He tended to the tired creature carefully by the light of the moon. He was just as footsore but his own rest could wait. Brushed, watered, and fed, he left the horse and made his way into the quieter, emptier mansion. He heard one faint laugh echo up from the kitchens but that was the only sign of life.

He made his way through the hallways and ignored the ghosts that chased him out of the corner of his eyes. Below, Orana was likely holding another sewing circle or drinking tea with her friends. Bodahn would be asleep by this time of night but Sandal would be up, fiddling away with another project. A half dozen families lived in the servant quarters below him. Bodahn and Merrill had turned some of the rooms into apartments after so much of the alienage had been destroyed in-

Don’t think of it. Don’t think of the fire and the rioters. Don’t think of the blood dripping down the stairs in the Gallows. Don’t think of the rubble where the Chantry used to be.

But he had to think of it because these halls were empty. Hawke was gone and had been for over three years. Because of what happened that night.

There had been life like that here. Isabella had introduced them to a dozen different ways to play cards in the salon he had just walked past. Further down the hall, Hawke had taught him to read in the library. Varric read drafts of his work aloud in the entry hall just to hear how the words echoed in such a space. Orana and Anders perfected the delicate almond pastries that they had both grown up with. They had argued for years about whether the Tevene or Ander name for them was the ‘real’ one. Fenris was just happy to eat the sweets.

He reached the guest room which had become his and tried to leave his nostalgia behind as he shut the door. The curtains were changed to a proper seasonal color and there wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen. Bodahn was dedicated above all else. It almost felt lived in. It didn’t change the fact that down the hall Leandra’s room was a museum to her death and Hawke’s weren’t much better.

He hung his sword on its rack and began to strip off his armor. He groaned when he pulled off his boots. Three weeks hunting the whisper of slavers along the coast and his feet felt it. The iron control that Aveline held over the city proper didn’t extend very far beyond the gates and the chaos of the war still plagued the outlying farmers. He opened his pack and began to remove the rest of his gear. He shook out and hung up his cloak. He dropped his rolled tent into the wardrobe and sorted out his dirty laundry to wash in the morning. His fingers stubbed against a weight in one of the outer pockets.

It was a polished bit of agate. A dirty farm child had given it to him after he returned her to her family. It was good luck, he had been told. He snorted to himself but there was a smile on his lips as he placed the rock on his desk. There was a collection of other trinkets there and a pile of mail that made his head hurt just to think about. No matter, he wouldn’t be able to sleep until it was sorted. He fumbled through his drawers until he found his flint and lit a candle to read by. He hadn’t considered himself so popular to deserve this much correspondence.

The first letter on the top was just a note written on a scrap of paper.

_Fenris, come to my home at once! We must speak before you read Varric’s letter. I have an idea._

_Love, Merrill_

Fenris read it again. An unusual note, Merrill was not one for short correspondence. He debated pulling his boots back on and making his way down to the Alienage. It was closer to dawn than dusk and if could wait until he had returned to the city, it could wait until he had gotten some sleep.

The next letter down in the stack was written on the heavy, smooth stationary of the Guard’s office. He broke the seal marking it as coming from Aveline’s office and read the blocky letters. The Guard Captain had written it herself, unusual again.

_Fenris, by now you must have heard from Varric. Donnic and I would like to have you for dinner when you return to the city. I know we aren’t as close as before but I feel we should put aside our past disagreements now. If for no reason but for Hawke’s sake_

_\- A_

A cold pit of dread was growing in his ribs. Something had happened. Something had happened to Hawke that was severe enough that Aveline was swallowing a bit of her pride. She was making the first overture since there last explosive confrontation regarding the home searches and she hadn’t even signed with her full title.

Fenris shuffled through the pile until he found the last correspondence from Varric. It was marked with the flaming eye and sword of the Inquisition. He cracked open the seal with numb fingers and began to read Varric’s familiar handwriting.

_Fenris,_

_I don’t know how to start things like this. Its why I write fiction and not history…_

He read it as slowly as if he was still learning the sounds of each letter. He read it again to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood. He read it again because he wasn’t sure he believed it. He read it again because he was watching how Varric’s hand grew less and less controlled, less and less graceful as the words spilled out.

He read until he had to screw up his eyes to stop the tears. He shoved his chair away from the desk. It squeaked again the stone. He hurled it into the wall and splintered wood pelted him.

Fenris was on his knees sobbing like he hadn’t since- probably since he was child. Hawke was dead. His dearest friend, his oldest friend was dead and for a awful, painful moment, that was enough to bring him to his knees. He curled against the wall, shivering. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to hold onto whatever control survived the waves of grief.

A knock at the door woke him. He blinked in the sudden light. Sunlight flooded the room. His candle had long since burned out on the desk. He had fallen asleep on the floor in a ball and he ached from it. The ache twinged in places that shouldn’t hurt just because he slept wrong.

The knock came again.

“Messere Fenris, are you in? I saw your horse in the stable.”

Fenris pulled himself to his feet and limped to the door. Bodahn stood on the other side, looking at him as if he might break as easily as fine porcelain.

“Ah, I see that you have read Messere Varric’s letter. May I just say-”

“I need to see Merrill.”

“Merrill?”

“Yes, where is she.”

“In the alienage, I’d image, serah. Will you be leaving-”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Breakfast is nearly ready for you.”

Fenris sneered at the offer. Hawke was dead and Bodahn was offering him crumpets. But his knees were shaking and his head pounded. He did need food.

“Something I can eat as I go.”

“Of course, I will have it ready by the door.”

The dwarf bustled away and Fenris went to find his boots.


	2. Chapter 2

Bethany Hawke opened Merrill’s door when he knocked.

“Fenris!” She pulled him into a hug before he could respond. He patted her back a few times before taking a step away.

“Where’s Merrill?”

“She’s inside. How are you? She said she hadn’t heard from you in weeks.”

“I haven’t been in the city.” He brushed past her into Merrill apartment. It was a cluttered mess. A elders meeting must have let out not long ago. Mismatched cups and a battered kettle perched on the blood mage’s battered kitchen table. A collection of worn cushions were still arranged in a circle on the floor.

Merrill emerged from her bedroom carrying a tray of dirty dishes.

“Fenris, you came.” She seemed surprised.

“Only because you said you had an idea.”

With the clarity of a few moments to think and the Eluvian looming in the corner, Fenris was beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t have. This was Merrill, a blood mage with the judgement of a twelve year old. Did he really want to hear what she could have come up?

Merrill nodded solemnly and put down her tray. “Would you like some tea?”

“Stop delaying.”

“Fenris,” Bethany stepped between them. “This might take some explaining perhaps it would be best if we all sat down.”

He appraised the younger Hawke. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid that made her look more like her sister. The Warden blues and glaive like mage staff stopped any further comparisons. Bethany had changed since he first met her all those years ago. She had been a nervous teenager then who had hidden behind Hawke’s shoulder when he questioned her presence.

Hawke had immediately stepped into his face and pointed out that Bethany had been helping him just the same as the rest of them. The resolve had been one of the things that first led Fenris to trust her. He could see a similar sort of steeliness had grown in Bethany after her years with the Wardens.

“I thought you were still in Amaranthine?” He asked Bethany after she had sat down with a fresh clay mug.

“I’m on a recruiting mission. Officially. Warden Commander Amell practically ordered me back to Kirkwall when I got Merrill’s message.”

Fenris did a bit of math. Varric’s letter had been dated to a week ago. It took nearly that long or longer to travel from Amaranthine to Kirkwall, depending on the weather. Bethany would have needed to set out nearly as soon as Hawke had been- as soon as Hawke-

Bethany laid her hand on the table next to his. “How did you find out?”

“Varric wrote me a letter.”

“I’m sorry. I know that Aveline wanted to break it a bit more gently. Or as gently as Aveline can do things.”

“Varric had a soft enough delivery.”

“I wish he was here. I miss him. I think he needs us right now.”

Merrill poured hot water into his mug and took the seat on his other side. She wrapped her hands around her dented pewter cup and worried at her lip with her teeth.

“How did you find out so quick?” Fenris asked her.

“I found her in the Beyond.” Merrill said quietly. “I didn’t mean to and I don’t think she meant to either but I was asleep and was drawn to her. She’s still alive, Fenris.”

The pit of dread returned to his stomach. Varric’s letter had made it sound as if Hawke had been killed while fighting the demon. The idea of Hawke and Varric strolling around the Fade physically unsettled him. The idea of Hawke being there alive and trapped with no way out was nauseating. After the initial horror, a traitorous bit of hope sprang to life.

“She’s still alive?”

Merrill nodded. “She killed the Nightmare, the demon, and survived. I’m not sure how. Physical distance isn’t real in the Beyond but its still far away- so to speak. And I was never one for dream walking. Its hard to find her and its hard to see what’s happening but she’s alive.”

“Are you sure? Its not just a trick of some demon hoping to-”

“Rian’s alive.” Bethany interrupted. “And Merrill has a plan to get her out.”

Fenris turned to the other elf. She wouldn’t look at him.

“You won’t like.”

“What demon have you made a deal with?”

“Nothing! I haven’t done anything. Yet. I need your help. Both of your help.” She took a breath. “It will be tricky but it should work. We’ll use my Eluvian. It’s a doorway. Our ancestors used them to travel from place to place physically. They would step from one Eluvian into another- another place of reality and then step back out from another Eluvian elsewhere. That place isn’t the Beyond. I’ve seem some text refer to something called the Pathways but I’m not sure that’s where it goes. And my Eluvian doesn’t seem to go anywhere right now, anyways.”

“Merrill, you’re rambling again.” Bethany said softly.

“Sorry. Right. If I activate my Eluvian and I alter the magic in it we could step into the Beyond rather than into the Pathways. Physically.”

Fenris stared. “Your plan is put yourself into the same position as Hawke? The last time that someone walked physically in the Fade the result was the Blight! And how much power would you need? How much blood will you require.”

“None! I promise, Fenris. Please sit back down. I can make it work but I need your help.”

Fenris turned away and began to pace across the room.

Bethany spoke up. “Sacrifices were never the idea. Its not that we need more power to open the door. Opening a door harder won’t change which room it leads to. What we need is someone who can already step between places.”

“You need me to phase into the Fade. That’s impossible.”

“You already do it. Partly.” Merrill pointed out. “With the Eluvian and the right spells to help you, you can step into the Beyond. I’ll take a lyrium draught to make me more lucid and then I can guide you to Hawke. We bring her back to the Eluvian and you phase her back into the physical world. There will be no blood, no demons, no Rifts. Just the Eluvian and what you can already do.”

Fenris paced and glared at the two women. Bethany was tired but calm. She was confident it would work. Merrill was more nervous, uncertain. But was it uncertainty over her plan or uncertainty about whether he would refuse?

There were a thousand things that could go wrong. The fact that he was creating a list of them meant that part of him didn’t want to refuse. Part of him wanted to say to the Void with the consequences, that this was Hawke they were talking about and if any of them were trapped in the Fade she would be coming in after them. He stilled and glared into the fire place.

“How do you know that nothing else won’t come out with us?”

Both mages began to answer at the same time. They shared an amused look before Bethany spoke again.

“Any spirit or demon would have to be possessing you or Rian to get back out. She’s resisted this long and I trust you.”

Her confidence was heartening but meaningless. “And if either of us are possessed? What’s to stop a demon from riding us out into the Alienage?”

“I’ll be there the whole time.” She adjusted her grip on her staff. “And we won’t be doing it here.”

“How will you shut the Eluvian when were out?”

“With the same key I use to open it.” Merrill answered.

“And if that doesn’t work.”

“I was broken before. A sword into the frame should do the trick.”

“If _that_ doesn’t work? If a Rift does open?”

Bethany tapped her pack with her staff. “I have a Veil Stone from the Blackmarsh. We’ll be activating it along with a dozen Dalish spells to strengthen the boundary between worlds on top of that.”

He retook his seat. “How long will I be in there.”

Merrill perked up. “You’ll help us?”

“I’m thinking about it. How long will I be in there?”

“I’m not sure.” Merrill said. “I’ve been finding her in my dreams faster each night, within a few minutes. I’m not sure how long it will take with physical bodies.

Fenris took a sip of his tea. It was still very hot but it was a surprisingly find blend for the Alienage. He took another drink. Merrill and Bethany waited on his answer.

“Alright. For Hawke.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bodahn welcomed them back into the mansion with his usual enthusiasm. He beamed up at them and chattered about how nice it was to see them. He helped the mages carry their bulky package through the door and into the main hall. They set it down next to Hawke’s desk. The canvas wrapped Eluvian stood out in the familiar room.

The dwarf bustled about opening the curtains and lighting the fire as Bethany and Merrill began to unwrap the mirror. As light returned to the room, Fenris found himself staring at the Eluvian. It was a beautiful thing. Merrill had restored it was a great deal of care. The frame was lovingly polished and the dark glass shone in the sunlight. But there was no reflection. He stared into it and saw only shadows. Before the day was out he would be walking through it.

Bethany left to collect the lyrium she had cached in the Warden office. Bodahn and Orana returned to the kitchens to start a lunch for them. He was left alone with Merrill. The blood mage hummed to herself as she unpacked her equipment. She set the bulky Veil Stone on Hawke’s desk and them rotated it a particular angle that made no difference to him.

“Can you help me roll back the carpet?” She asked.

He nodded but didn’t answer. Together they moved the floor covering to the side of the room. Merrill retrieved some chalk from her pack and began to draw arcane symbols on the floor in a circle around the Eluvian. To his discomfort, Fenris recognized some of them. They were magical wardings which Danarius used when working in his laboratory.

He couldn’t do this. He had seen the consequences of Merrill’s work before. She was humming a tune as she doodled on the floor but she was also etching the same symbols his master had used to bind demons to screaming slaves.

“I ran into someone who met you, you know.” She mentioned off hand.

“Pardon?”

“A family moved into the Alienage from a millhouse east of here. They said that a ‘wraith’ had stopped a group of bandits offering protection to the owner.”

“Millham, I remember. That was a month ago.”

She nodded. “They were grateful by the way. One of their sons had been killed in the first raid. I told them I knew you and they wanted me to pass on their thanks. The father and oldest daughter are working as porters for Linus’ importing company now, if you wanted to see them yourself.

“I didn’t do it so I could track them down later for gratitude.”

Merrill rolled her eyes. “Obviously, Fenris. They would still like to say thanks.”

She finished a focusing rune with a bit of flourish and moved onto another side of the circle. Orana returned with another tray of fresh bread and sliced melons. Merrill chatted with her about mutual friends. Who had gotten a job with which home, who had started courting who, which recent grudge had resolved. Fenris almost felt like an intruder as the two women talked.

He turned away to eat his meal. He couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed. When Hawke first employed her, Fenris had been the only one Orana trusted for months. She went to him when her first week of wages came in and she didn’t know what to do with coins. They spoke in Tevene, more often than not and somehow it was easier to admit what Danarius had done to him, what he had done for Danarius, in his old language. Tevene was for Tevinter and his past. For their past.

They hadn’t spoken like that in nearly a year. He had been her only friend in Kirkwall once and he hadn’t realized she was engaged until a few moments ago.

Bethany returned with a nondescript box marked with the Grey Warden seal. Even without her confirming it, he knew it was the lyrium. The power hummed through his markings like a raw nerve. Orana gave Merrill one more squeeze on the shoulder and hurried away back to the kitchens. Fenris wanted to go too.

He brought the lyrium in his skin to life and felt the power move through him. It always edge on the territory of painful. The energy moved like a storm on a leash and he focused his control over it. Now was not the time to make a mistake. The pale blue light shone against the darkened mirror. Merrill looked up from her work.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be. Give me a moment. I’ll be in the garden when you’re ready.”

He reigned in the power and left. Sandal was in the garden when he arrived. He was tending to the herb patch and mumbling to himself in his usual Sandal manner. Fenris ignored him and found a quiet bench beneath the drooping willow. He ran check a over his armor, adjusting straps, straightening ties. His blade was as sharp and well-polished as ever. Would it even do any good in the Fade? It would be a physical weapon in the realm of thought.

He drew it and leveled it at the tree trunk. The motions of the Fog Warrior sword dance came easily. His muscles were still tired from yesterday’s ride and the steps loosened them. He didn’t know what would happened when he stepped through that doorway. But Hawke was trapped in there and needed his help. He had a sword and would do what he could.

Sandal made his way to the tree and watched him with a cocked head. Fenris gave him a grin and lit up the markings on his hands. Sandal laughed and clapped. Fenris resheathed the sword and bowed his head to his audience.

“You will go in.” Sandal told him.

“I will. I wonder how much of Merrill’s plan you understand.”

Sandal took one of his hands and traced the lyrium under his skin with his fingers.

“Blood.” He stated matter-of-factly.

Fenris clamped down on the instinct to rip his hand away.

“Magic blood.” Sandal emphasized. “You don’t belong in there.”

“Neither does Hawke. I have to go get her.”

Sandal shrugged and sat down on the bench. “Keep dancing?”

Fenris nodded and drew his sword. He started a different dance, a Tevene routine meant to reinforce blocks. The motions were less fluid, more defined and rigid but it focused his worries into something useful.

Bethany found him not long after that. “We’re ready.”

Fenris swallowed down the jolt of fear. It would work or it wouldn’t. The only way to find out would be to do it.

“Thank you for the audience, Sandal.” He nodded to the dwarf who was now transfixed watching a caterpillar crawl up the tree’s trunk.

The two of them made their way back into the hall.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you, Fenris?” Bethany said.

“I’ll do everything I can to get her out alive.”

“I’ve already thought Rian was dead twice before. If you find her dead, or if you can’t get her out, don’t die in there as well. No one dies today, alright?”

Her hand lifted briefly as if she wanted to rest it on his shoulder. He took it in his own.

“I will do my best.”

She squeezed his palm and they opened the door. Inside, the smell of lyrium burned in the air but there was no blood. Crystals of raw lyrium sat at the intersections of the warding circle along with candles. The darkened glass was gone in favor of a shimmering, iridescent surface. Merrill stood before it, staring into the doorway. A bed roll was laid out in front with a lyrium draught sat beside it.

“Oh good, you’re back.” She beamed at him. “Just let me get comfortable and I’ll be in there in a moment. Once I’m asleep, just, er, step on through.”

“As easy as that.”

“Well, not really. You’ll have to use your-”

“I know, Merrill.”

“I’ll be here awake the whole time.” Bethany assured both of them. “If anything happens, I’ll send a pulse of energy through your palm, alright Merrill?”

The blood mage nodded and began to settle herself on the mattress. She downed the draught in one go and then curled on her side as if she was merely laying down for a nap. Her breath evened out and grew slower within a few minutes.

“I think you can go through now, Fenris.” Bethany told him.

The sun was beginning to set. The golden light streamed through the windows, contrasting the multicolored glow from the mirror. He called power back into his skin and a brilliant blue-white cast shadows across it all.

He stepped over the chalk lines and up to the mirror. His heart pounded. On the other side was another world. A world he wasn’t meant for. He took a breath and stepped through.


End file.
